


"B" stands for Business

by philippcarlyle



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: And also annoyed, Bad Flirting, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Lots of dialogue, M/M, Phil is a blushing mess, cheeky Phineas, this is fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 20:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13982664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philippcarlyle/pseuds/philippcarlyle
Summary: Phil likes to do yoga and it's none of P.T.'s business. Until it is.





	"B" stands for Business

**Author's Note:**

> Ay, hello!
> 
> This is based on a tumblr prompt: “You should really do that yoga stuff around here more often. Ow–what was that for?!”
> 
> (Unbeta'ed, I am not a native speaker)
> 
> I hope you enjoy it!

P.T. enters the circus early today. He needs to take care of his business, after all. The circus is not only fun and shows, but contains management too. Phineas plans to get it done as quickly as possible. Although he agreed to meet Philip to go through the organisational issues together, he wants to get some work done ahead. He can think of better ways to spend his time with the other man than to work through endless papers and calculations. 

What he doesn’t expect, is company. And apparently the person in the middle of the circus ring doesn’t either. They haven’t noticed P.T. yet so he approaches them, slowly and carefully.

The circus king crouches down next to the first row of benches and has to bite his lip to contain an amused, but also amazed grin. On a red circus mat stands no other than Philip. His waistcoat lies - abandoned with his boots - a few feet away in the sand. As to allow him to move freely, Philip remains only in his plain black trousers and unbuttoned creamy shirt, which allows P.T. to admire quite _a view_.

It takes P.T. a few minutes to figure out, what exactly Philip does, because he doesn’t move out of some position that seems to stretch his upper body for a while. P.T. can at least clearly make out the smooth skin and firm muscles. Then the young man shifts his body ever so slowly to bow down and bend his knees. Suddenly he pushes one of his legs out long backwards and puts his arms in the air, above his head. P.T. doesn’t mind this new angle. However, he cannot stop the surprised exhale, when Philip reaches even farther back with his arms to grab the foot from his extended leg. From watching only, P.T. phantom-feels the muscles in his own legs and sides hurt. Several minutes pass, but P.T. is not willing to move just yet. The same seems to apply for Philip.

Finally, Philip seems done with the position and P.T. is curious as to what comes next. Well, he didn’t expect some kind of hand stand. Except, Philip’s pushed up on his forearms instead of hands. It makes P.T. wonder how that is even possible. _Fascinating._

As much as he’d like to admire those long legs, tensed arms and ass – he hasn’t got the time. And it is just too good an opportunity to get Philip out of business-mode and even more so without everyone else around them. He steps out of the dark, still hidden from Philip's steady gaze ahead. He walks down as softly as possible to get the best effect out of his sudden appearance.

“You should really do that yoga stuff around here more often. _Ow_ –what was that for?!” He couldn’t even finish his teasing speech, because Philip plopped down from his stance and swiftly kicked him in the shin. P.T. rubs the sand off his pants and shoots the younger man an irritated look.

“What on earth are you doing here?!”

“Planning the best show on earth, obviously," P.T. grins innocently now and offers Philip a hand, as he continues to sit on the mat. Unsurprisingly, Philip doesn’t take it and pulls his legs up in what P.T. first thought was a simple crossed-legged sit. It looks more complicated when he analyses it closely and _oh man_ , this leg doesn’t seem like it should go there. P.T. wonders, whether Philip wants to impress him or is so unfathomed by him that he simply decided to carry on with his exercises.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed the show, Barnum. It was the last, now I have to find a new place.”

“But why? You can’t keep this from me!” P.T. tries to argue and shows Philip his most charming smile. Sadly, pleading was never his strongest field, he was more of a sweet talker.

“And what exactly is _‘this’_?” Philip asks slyly and gets up on his own. He buttons his shirt up quickly, hiding the before exposed skin.

“Fishing for compliments now? That’s my boy. Where do I start…-" P.T. takes his time to circle Philip. The younger man already regrets his overly confident behaviour, he knows he can’t keep up with P.T. at these games. Somewhat insecure, he crosses his arms.

“Let’s start from the top. Or bottom? Ah yeah, nice butt. Really nice, and your legs, goddamn it, you are flexible.” Philip feels himself blush and lays one hand over his eyes, barely containing an embarrassed groan.

“No, don’t you dare hide these beauties. Your _eyes_ , have you ever seen yourself, Philip? I can’t put all of it into words, not at this inadequate place and time. You deserve better.”

“You are way too good at flattery, you know that?” Philip murmurs and tries to cool the heat of his face down with his clammy hands.

“It’s a gift. And I don’t really have a choice here: not to say something would be outrageous.”

“ _You_ are outrageous.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh my god, you idiot. Didn’t we wanna talk business today?” Philip tries to change the topic and drops his hands from his face.

“Indeed. Talk business to me, Mr Carlyle.”

“How can you make everything sound so-”, Philip grins, at a loss for words and slowly surrendering. The daring ringmaster will put him into an early grave, he can feel it. One rational reason for this theory is clearly his heart, beating too fast, whenever he encounters the handsome man. There’s only so often a heart can beat in a life time.

“Charming? Winning? … _sexy_?” P.T. wiggles his eyebrows which results into Philip laughing so hard, yet still slightly embarrassed, that he has to gasp for air.

“ _Definitely_. Okay, but for real, we have stuff to do.” He wants to get back on safe grounds.

“I’m stuff,” P.T. quips and has to bite his tongue to not immediately cry tears of laughter when he sees Philips bewildered expression.

“Excuse me?”

“You have stuff to do, you said. Why not do it now?”

“What do you – _oh my god, Phineas_! Stop it right now…” He stutters with widened eyes. The ringmaster holds his hands up in mock innocence.

“Let’s get down to business, before I get down on-“

“I can’t hear you!”, Philip yells over the teasing implications. He quickly grabs his boots, throws his waistcoat over his shoulders on his way up the stairs and sings one of the circus’ songs at the top of his lungs to drown out more of P.T.’s inappropriate suggestions that make him blush like a twelve year old. 

It’s way too early for these kinds of conversations with the other man and he is definitely too sober to even think about any of what P.T. said back then. He barely dares to think about it when he’s drunk. But the circus lets your mind wander a little outside the box.


End file.
